The Inevitable Hero
by TheDancingBerry
Summary: Midoriya Izuku sometimes wishes he were born Quirkless. Wishes he didn't have to wear gloves in public. Wishes he could touch another person. Because the Quirk he has doesn't make him a hero. It makes him feel like a monster.


_**T**__**he Inevitable Hero**_

_**Chapter the First **_

**_Dry Bones_**

Midoriya Izuku was four years old the first time he saw somebody die.

It was his father.

As Midoriya Hisashi handed the screaming toddler to his mother, Inko, the pair desperately trying to calm their son, he kept repeating the same phrase.

"Fire! Daddy, you're on fire!"

Two weeks later, the arsonist villain Flamebird attacked Hisashi's office. Although the pro-Hero Eraserhead arrived on the scene, he was unable to prevent a fire from spreading across the top floor, where Hisashi worked.

Inko, grieving, thought little of her son's seeming prediction of his father's death at first. The body was buried. The condolences were paid. The life insurance payout was enough to keep Inko from having to pick up much more work, but she had to hire a babysitter for Izuku during the days while she worked.

* * *

It was a Tuesday when the babysitter called Inko at her office. This in and of itself was a cause for concern- -Nanami was a capable young woman, and could handle garden-variety tantrums and freakouts. So naturally, Inko was horribly anxious when she took the call.

"Mrs. Midoriya _oh thank God _I don't know what to do I just I turned around and- -"

"Nanami," Inko said firmly, quashing her own fear, "what's happening?"

"His _hands_\- -"

Tucking the phone between her shoulder and her ear, Inko began gathering her things. This sounded like a medical emergency, meaning she should leave ASAP.

"What about them?"

"They're, they're..._gone_."

She froze.

Images of her baby, her Izuku, squalling and screaming, bleeding all over the floor, terribly injured, while this girl sat on the phone with her and fucking gabbed, flooded through her mind. Carefully controlling her emotions, she said, "What do you mean, _gone_?"

"Like...they're just bone! Nothing happened, I was giving him his lunch, and the flesh just started _melting_. All the way down to the wrists."

Inko froze. "What."

"He didn't even cry, he just kept eating, I don't know what to do."

Inko finished packing up her things, throwing her laptop into her shoulder bag. "Don't do anything. I'll be right there. Just keep calm."

"O-okay."

Inko hurried out, quickly stopping to inform her boss that her son was having a potentially severe medical issue and she had to leave immediately, before hopping in the car and practically racing across the city to her apartment building. Taking the steps four at a time- -not easy when you stand five feet even- -she rushed upstairs to the eighth floor, unlocking the door with trembling hands.

"Mommy!"

Her son tackled her about the midsection, hugging her tight.

"Hey, Zuzu." Inko said, patting his head. Nanami was sitting at the kitchen table, staring into the middle distance.

"Hi, Mrs. Midoriya. He...finished his lunch."

Inko nodded. "You can go, Nanami."

Nanami nodded slowly, standing up. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

As she left, the babysitter squatted down by Izuku. "Hey kiddo. See you tomorrow?"

Izuku detached himself from his mother and flung his arms around Nanami. "See you tomorrow, Nami-chan!"

That's when Inko saw them.

His hands.

It was just like Nanami described. From fingertip to wrist, her sons once-chubby hands were just gone. Stripped to gleaming white bone that flexed and pulsed like- -just like normal hands.

Inko stifled a gasp and stepped aside to allow Nanami to leave, before squatting down by Izuku. "Hey, Zuzu."

Her son turned to her, smiling broadly. "Why're you home early, Mommy?"

"Well, sweetie...you scared Nami-chan."

Izukus face fell. "What?"

Inko grabbed Izukus left elbow and held it up. "Sweetie...what happened to your hands?"

Izuku stared for a moment at his hand, then shrugged. "I dunno. They got really cold and then they were magic!"

"Magic?"

"Uh-huh!" Izuku beamed. "Watch!"

He slowly raised his right arm. The bones of four out of five fingers curled in, and his index finger remained up. He slowly reached across the intervening space and gently tapped Inko on the nose.

"Boop."

Izuku started giggling, stopping when he caught his mother's expression. "Somethin' wrong, Mommy?"

Inko opened and closed her mouth a few times before the words came out. "Honey, we're gonna go to the hospital."

* * *

"Mrs. Midoriya, there is no cause for alarm."

Doctor Tsubasa was a tall man, with tiny glasses like the caps of soda bottles and a gleaming bald head. He sprawled in his office chair, leveling a steady look at Inko. "This is simply the manifestation of your son's Quirk. It may be the only manifestation- -he could, quite simply, have skeletal hands- -or it could be an outward sign of inward power."

Inko nodded, watching Izuku play with a tower of blocks on the floor. "So...what's his Quirk? Because mine is nothing like that, and his father's wasn't either."

Dr. Tsubasa nodded, pushing his glasses even further up his nose. "Well, that's why I want to talk to you. You see, sometimes Quirks manifest in minor ways before they fully 'blossom', so to speak. Was there ever a time, when Izuku was young...well, younger...where he may have demonstrated his Quirk? You may've thought nothing of it at the time, but..."

The doctor waved his hand vaguely.

"You know."

Inko sat there, shaking her head. There wasn't...

Wait.

_Oh._

_Oh no._

The realization hit her like a train and she doubled over, overcome with emotion. Izuku looked up, concerned. "Mommy?"

"I'm...Mommy's fine, buddy," Inko said, voice shaking, "Mommy's fine."

She straightened her back. "I...think Izuku saw Hisashi die."

Dr. Tsubasa blinked. "Oh?"

Inko told him about the fit her son had had, screaming about his father burning. Tsubasa nodded along, and when she finished, he exhaled deeply and sat back in his chair.

"Well, Inko...it seems as though Izuku has a very unique Quirk."

Izuku smiled up at her.

"He can predict death."


End file.
